


Deja Vu

by rxinshib



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Flashbacks, M/M, Murphamy Week, Past Lives, Temporary Character Death, i originally wrote this for murphamy week 2k18 but its extremely late, prompt "the past"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 10:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxinshib/pseuds/rxinshib
Summary: John Murphy always remembers. No matter how many lives or different faces, he always remembers. Bellamy Blake is one thing he’ll never forget.For Murphamy Week October 26 “The Past”Sorry I'm four months late





	Deja Vu

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: incorrect historical references, shitty writing, over usage of commas and dashes, probably improper usage of commas and dashes  
> I apologize for any grammar mistakes.

1.

John Murphy always remembers. No matter how many lives or different faces, he always remembers. Bellamy Blake is one thing he’ll never forget.

2.  
_Murphy’s in Egypt. He’s the son of_ some _pharaoh and he’s never alone. There’s always his mother or his brother or guards. It’s suffocating. Murphy mostly wants to get away. Murphy only ever got out of the palace once. He made it all the way to the village before he heard that the guards were looking for him. So, obviously, he hides. He finds himself hidden in a house, dark and dusty. They only source of light is a window shaped out from the clay brick. He peeks out the window just as the guards pass by, but before he can relax he hears,_

_“I don’t think you’re supposed to be here,”_

_Behind Murphy is a boy, or maybe even a man. He’s tall with golden skin and dark chocolate curls. His arms are toned and his voice is deep. At first glance, he doesn’t seem that old, but the more you look at him the older he seems. His eyes are dark and they seem to see right through to Murphy’s soul. The boy is rough, chiseled. He looks weathered like the earth and sky have beat down on him. It makes him seem even more handsome. Murphy doesn’t know this man's name but he knows deep down that this person is Bellamy._

_“I’m lost?” Murphy says sheepishly, hoping the man can’t tell he’s lying. Bellamy reaches down with his big, muscular hand - oh god - and pulls Murphy to his feet. There’s a sort of energy in the air, not quite electric, but a buzzing. He pulls Murphy to his feet in one strong yank._

_“What are you looking for?”_

_“Uh... the uh… the palace,” Murphy can’t seem_ to get the words  _out, they feel heavy on his tongue. But why does he feel guilty?_  
_Bellamy raises his eyebrows in a sort of disbelief. He looks like he wants to question Murphy - ‘why the palace,’ or ‘who are you’._

_“I can take you there. I know a secret way in. Just follow me.”_

He grabs Murphy’s hand and leads him through a winding alley, hidden away from the rest of the world. Beams of light leak through the overhangs. It almost feels like a dream to him, being led through this secret path by a stranger - a stranger who Murphy knows better than he knows himself.

_They’re back at the palace quicker than Murphy would’ve liked. They don’t talk to each other and Murphy avoids his gaze. Murphy doesn’t even realize that they’d been holding hands until the palace came into view._

_“This is as far as I can take you,” Bellamy’s hand leaves Murphy’s._

_Murphy wants to grab it again._

_“Thank you!” Murphy shouts out as the boy is leaving. Bellamy pauses and then smiles before running back to the village. There’s a flutter in Murphy’s heart and he doesn’t yet know, but he’s in love._

_It’s years before Murphy meets the boy again._

It starts _as a normal day. Murphy goes about his_ day _business as usual and doesn’t expect anything to happen. Murphy is painting a portrait. The features of the face don’t matter. The nose could be small and dainty of long and knobbed, the jaw could be square and sharp or round and soft; the eyes are always the same. Dark and piercing. They’re something Murphy would not easily forget._

 _He hears a clamor - shouting coming from down the hall. Murphy doesn’t even realize what’s happening. A revolt. Slaves are storming the palace and claiming revenge against those who have wronged them for so long. At the time it’s wrong,_ they’re _are slaves and will always be slaves, that’s how it’s supposed to be. Murphy knows now that he was ignorant, but it was a different time and he was a different person._  
_It’s all a haze, a blur of unimportant faces rushing past him. He knows he’s going to be killed but he supposes it doesn’t matter. The pain he feels in his stomach is unexpected. Murphy looks down and there’s a sword through his stomach. In his last moments he finds it odd - wouldn’t a public execution better get the point across? He feels himself falling. Then there are arms behind him, laying him down. It hurts for him to turn his head but he wants to know who did this, who killed him in such a forgiving way. Dark eyes meet Murphy’s, eyes that haunt him. Calloused hands caress his face and Murphy almost laughs. Why are you being so gentle with your slaver?_ In _that moment, Bellamy’s face is remorseful, like it pains him to do this. His eyes are sad and - is that a tear? Sad eyes are the last things Murphy sees before he dies._

3.  
Throughout all of Murphy’s lifetimes, all the different bodies and circumstances, Bellamy’s eyes stay the same. Dark eyes that seem to know him but never acknowledge it. Those eyes are ingrained into Murphy’s soul.

4.  
It's different on the Ark. Murphy thinks this is his least favorite life. He feels suffocated, trapped in a tin box and drifting aimlessly through space. Murphy knows that's not true, the Ark is made out of a steel alloy and it's been set in orbit around the earth, but it doesn't make it any less miserable. Murphy doesn't have to read books to know what the earth was like - he remembers - how the fresh air feels on your face or soft rain on a summer afternoon. But really, it’s the little things that he wishes he could get back. Like a hot shower without restrictions. Or a hot lunch outside of the sterile cafeteria. The feel of sand beneath his feet as he runs on the beach. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Even seeing the clouds from the ground. And birds. Murphy loved birds, at least he loves his memories of them.

5.  
_Murphy opens his - no, her eyes. It’s 1969 and life has been good. Murphy’s laying in a field, surrounded by grass and dandelions. Bellamy’s there, of course, he always is. This time Murphy knows Bellamy’s name. He - she - Murphy knows that she loves Bellamy. In this form and all others._  
_Murphy reaches out a hand and brushes Bellamy’s face. It’s a small move,_ on _that makes Murphy’s heart flutter. The way Bellamy latches on to her hand holds it to her face. It’s easy to love this version of her. It’s easy to be loved by her._  
_They’re underneath a blue sky and it’s a sunny day. Murphy doesn’t think about when there is no blue sky or sunny days - it never occurs to him the world would end._  
_“Do you hear that?” Bellamy aks in a whisper, careful not to break the spell that has encased them._  
_Murphy closes her eyes again and listens. There are birds chirping in the distance, little trills of happiness. It’s calming. Murphy doesn’t open her eyes, just nods in response. She never wants this moment to end_.

6.  
At some point, it all blends together and Murphy will see his current form in his past life and his head will start to hurt. It’s kind of confusing when you don’t know if you should be who you were then, especially if you don’t know who you are now. Murphy thinks that he’s been cursed with this knowledge so that he can grow, learn from his mistakes. He’s not really learning anything, though. He always makes the same mistakes. Murphy also thinks that Bellamy doesn’t need to remember as he does, he always knows who he is and what he wants and where he’s going, no matter what lifetime.

7.  
The ground is both the same and different when Murphy returns to it. There is something about the air that makes it feel different, probably the radiation. But Bellamy is there. They make eye contact and Murphy knows instantly that it’s him. Bellamy doesn’t even blink, he just looks away and goes back to his work. It shouldn’t hurt, it’s happened so many times that you'd think Murphy is immune, but there's still a tug at his heart.

8.  
The mob of delinquents is roaring, thirsty for justice. They string Murphy up and he knows he’s not going to be able to get out of this. He can hear Clarke, she’s telling him not to this, to stop it. Murphy prays that Bellamy will spare him, but he’s never believed in god.  
Murphy’s eyes meet Bellamy’s. For a second, he thinks Bellamy recognizes him, that he knows who Murphy is and has always been. There’s a flicker of hope that lights in his just. (it's short-lived) And then Bellamy is moving and the crate is kicked out from underneath his feet and

he’s

falling -

 

+1.  
Ryder gulped. There was an uncomfortable tightness in his throat. He tried to swallow it down, to push the memory of his most recent life out of his head. It’s not a surprise Murphy was one of his least favorite lives. In a way, Ryder pitied him. Murphy lived a short, miserable life, and Ryder was almost thankful when it was over. Besides, this one was definitely better. Bellamy, or Sam, as Ryder knew him, was a loving husband. Ryder had never been happier before.  
"Ryder? Hon, come inside. made some lemonade." Sam called from the kitchen.  
"Coming!" Ryder called back. He looked out at the sunset one last time before heading back inside. Yeah, this was a good life. It might even be his best one yet.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the ending sucks it was rushed  
> I was going to insert another memory but writer's block is killing me


End file.
